


A Ghost Of Missions Past

by LarielRomeniel



Series: Unboxing Day [4]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: CaptainCanary Secret Santa 2018, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-09-25 21:23:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17128994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LarielRomeniel/pseuds/LarielRomeniel
Summary: Something's gone very wrong in the Roman Empire, half the Legends are missing in ancient Greece, and Sara and Leonard go to the rescue. Part of the "Unboxing Day" series, canon compliant only through about 3x09.





	1. A Sunday Drive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ranger_of_Estel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ranger_of_Estel/gifts).



> Happy holidays to Ranger-of-Estel, whose prompts led me down a surprising path for this Secret Santa! I'm not going to share them until the end of the story, because that would ruin the fun. Six chapters, posting one per day.

“All right, take it 30 degrees starboard… good! See, you _can_ fly the jump ship!”

Leonard glanced over at Sara and scoffed. “Fly? Yes. Land? No!”

Sara laughed. “Landing is the next lesson!”

He cast her a doubtful look. “You know, when you asked me to tag along to drop Amaya off, you said we’d get some alone time... like we haven’t gotten since we took care of Mallus and the Darhks. You _didn’t_ mention flying lessons!”

“Oh, come on, Leonard,” she said coaxingly. “Even Ray can pilot this thing manually.”  
  
He snorted. “I see what you’re doing, Sara. Appealing to my innate sense of competition.”   
  
She grinned and raised a curious eyebrow. “Is it working?”

He rolled his eyes. “Raymond is no competition!”

She chuckled. “Prove it! Go ahead and set her down right over… there.”

She pointed at a spot on the desert landscape below them and continued her instructions. “Ease up on the throttle just a bit… keep her nose up as we descend… good!”

“It would be damned ironic if we crashed this thing here, just outside a ghost town in Death Valley,” Leonard said drily, easing the jump ship down to earth with only a slight jolt upon landing. He released the joystick as the ship settled, and looked over at Sara. “So, Captain? How’d I do?”

“Better than Ray on his first outing!” Sara told him as she unbuckled her seat belt.

Leonard pumped his fist with a pleased chuckle, then surveyed the arid landscape outside their window. Someone had called this place home once, but the town’s abandoned status was clear from the state of the rickety wooden buildings. He noted the collapsed roof of what might have been a saloon, the sun-bleached signage above a one-time general store, the broken windows and peeling white paint of the town church. Just beyond the church, a ramshackle graveyard of leaning and falling monuments was surrounded by weird, spiky trees that sprouted from the dry soil and reached for the clear sky. “So why did you choose this, of all places? And in 1895?”

“I think Joshua trees are cool,” Sara shrugged. She rose from her seat and stretched. “Plus there’s plenty of open space, and airplanes aren’t a thing yet, so no hazards to navigation...”

“And no Time Bureau breathing down our necks?” Leonard asked archly.

“That’s an added bonus,” she agreed, sliding into his lap and winding her arms around his neck. “And with the rest of the team off fixing that problem in fourth century Greece, we can have a little romantic getaway.”

He huffed, even as he slid his arms around her. “We’re in the middle of the desert, Sara. Hot and sandy is not my idea of romantic.”

“It’s the middle of December, Leonard. Not hot at all. And just you wait until after sunset, when there are a billion stars all around,” she said, leaning forward to kiss him.

He chuckled as they parted. “And in the morning we can watch a tequila sunrise?”

That got another ripple of laughter. “Okay, okay! Blame Ray’s soft rock playlist! He’s got the Eagles on heavy rotation.”

“Hmm,” Leonard mused. “While I’m always happy to blame Raymond for anything and everything, I don’t want to give him any credit this time. This is almost a good idea.”

“Almost?” Sara asked teasingly.

“There’s still sand out there,” he answered, waving a hand at the scene outside. Then he frowned. The church was… _rippling_. “What the hell? Sara, look at that!”

Sara shifted to look outside, just in time to see the church ripple one more time before fading out of existence. She slid back out of his lap to hit the button that reactivated the jump ship’s Gideon interface. “We’ve got a problem here, Gideon,” she said, the smooth efficiency of the responsible captain replacing any trace of playful flirtation in her demeanor.

(This was probably the wrong time to be thinking he found the responsible captain even sexier than the playful flirt, but the thought crossed Leonard’s mind anyway.)

Gideon’s face was projected from the control panel. _“I was about to alert you, Captain. I’m afraid the anomaly the rest of the team was investigating has become more severe.”_

“Is that why we just saw an old church fade out of existence?” Sara asked.

_“Indeed. In fact, thousands of churches around the globe have disappeared -- or have been seriously altered. See for yourself.”_ Gideon’s head disappeared, to be replaced by a series of images that changed as she spoke. _“In Rome, St. Peter’s Basilica has been replaced with an Egyptian pyramid. A Druidic stone circle stands where Westminster Abbey should be. And a Wampanoag longhouse is on the site of Boston’s Old North Church.”_

“So this… anomaly… wiped out Christianity?” Leonard asked. “No ‘do unto others’ moral code to worry about?”

Sara rolled her eyes at him. “You know, Crook, ‘thou shalt not steal’ was around long before Christ!” When he snorted, she said, “Hey, I saw _The Ten Commandments!_ Anyway, for all of its faults, Christianity did drive much of history as we know it.” She shrugged at his surprised look. “So I’ve been reading some of the history books Nate left behind.”

_“Captain Lance is correct. The contention over religious choices and the drive to spread the faith framed much of Western history, and Western culture as well. Mr. Snart, you might remember from our discussions of the ‘Mona Lisa’ that Leonardo Da Vinci was commissioned to paint it based on the artistry of his religious works such as ‘The Last Supper.’”_

“ _Discussions_ of the ‘Mona Lisa?’” Sara frowned. “Gideon, have you been helping him plot to steal that painting?”

“I just want a sketch!” Leonard protested, just as Gideon said, _“Mr. Snart said it was only a theoretical exercise.”_

Sara shook her head and buckled her seat belt. “Well, all of it will be theoretical unless we deal with this anomaly. Time to go. Next stop Greece, AD 325!”


	2. Nothing Is Ever Easy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I may have gone just a little research-crazy putting this together! Thanks to Jael for giving it a look.

It would have been so much easier if they’d been able to hook back up to the Waverider and use its fabrication room to get outfitted for this mission. But, Sara reflected, since when did they ever get it easy?

The Waverider had been parked and camouflaged, as usual. But the jump ship’s offshoot of Gideon’s electronic brain didn’t know where. Comms and the scanner were blocked by electromagnetic interference from something Gideon called “lithospheric drip.” Before the AI could get into a detailed explanation of the plate tectonics involved, Leonard cut her off. 

“The others will know where they parked,” he said. “Let’s worry about finding them first.”

“Agreed,” Sara said. “Gideon, let’s review the mission briefing.”

_ “We are just outside the walls of Nicaea, Greece. While in your time it will be part of Turkey, at the present it is a part of the Roman Empire. Today is Sunday, the 16th of May, A.D. 325. In four days, the Emperor Constantine will convene the first Council of Nicaea, part of a series of ecumenical conferences assembling bishops and other clerics to confer and decide on church practices and canon law. It will also--” _

“Gideon, the Reader’s Digest version, please!” Leonard interrupted.

_ “The Roman emperor is gathering church leaders here to decide on the rules,”  _ Gideon said.  _ “In the original timeline, this council was highly influential and led to similar conferences. But in the aberrant timeline, none of the meetings ever happen because Constantine is assassinated.” _

Time hadn’t quite set enough for Gideon to give them that much detail when Sara sent Mick, Ray and Zari here. Apparently their presence had somehow made things worse. Sara cursed under her breath, then asked, “When?” 

_ “Tomorrow.” _

“And because the emperor is murdered, the early Church falls apart,” Sara concluded.

“Just because of one man?” Leonard asked.

_ “Constantine was known as the first Christian emperor, outlawing persecution of early Christians. But his influence went beyond religion,” _ Gideon continued.  _ “He founded Constantinople, the seat of the Byzantine Empire, which had tremendous influence on Western intellectual traditions during the Renaissance. Quite simply, if not for him, we would live in a vastly different world, and it is beyond my capability to weigh the costs versus benefits of such a scenario.” _

“Okay, so we’d better save the emperor,” Sara said. She looked down at her tight, ripped jeans and form-fitting black sweater. “Guess we’ll have to steal some clothes first.”

* * *

“You’re allergic to donkeys?!”

“How was I supposed to know? City boy, remember?”

Leonard Snart had heists go wrong before - Sara still wore the token of one of them - but never before had he literally been caught in the act with his pants down. Now he and Sara were running through the streets of an ancient Greek city, both of them half-naked and clutching the stolen clothes they’d been trying to change into when that …  _ jackass _ had intruded on their hiding place in that stable and assaulted Leonard’s immune system.

(Okay, maybe he and Sara had been the intruders, but still…)

He spared a moment to glance back at the pursuing Roman guards. Fortunately, these guys seemed to be unused to doing more than standing around - probably eating the Roman equivalent of doughnuts. They were a good way back, huffing and puffing their way through the crowd, shouting for them to stop.

“Leonard, this way!” Sara called. He followed her around a corner into a narrow alleyway, where they paused for just a moment, catching their breath.

“Now what, Canary?”

There was just one doorway in the alley, with a fish carved into the wood. Sara pointed to it. “In there.”

They caught one break; the door wasn’t locked. Sara went in first, but stopped short in front of Leonard.

The place wasn’t empty.

It was dimly lit by long, narrow windows above them. A plain wooden cross hung on the opposite wall. In front of the cross glowed a single candle on a tall metal candlestick. And in front of the candle, his back to them, a white-haired man in a brown robe knelt in the glade of light from the open door.

He paused in his prayers and said mildly, “Close the door please.” 

Neither of them moved. Still kneeling in place, he said, “You are safe here. Close the door.”

They exchanged shrugs and closed the door. The man still did not move, and his tone remained mild as he added, “And you should probably step aside from it before the  _ milites  _ charge through.”

They moved aside, and a bare heartbeat later the door banged open again, revealing the two guards who’d been chasing them. The kneeling man still did not rise, merely holding up a hand for silence before the guards could speak. “This may not be the Basilica, but this monastery chapel is still a house of God,” he said. “You are welcome to join me in worship, but you may not take anything from here that you did not bring in with you, save for the blessing of the Lord.”

“But, _papa,_ these two \--” one of them objected, pointing at Leonard and Sara, only to be cut off by the kneeling man.

“This is a house of God,” the man repeated. “As such, it is a sanctuary. I will see to them. You may not leave with anything but the Lord’s blessing.”

The first guard grumbled, but the other said, “I will take that blessing,  _ papa.” _

The kneeling man finally rose at that point and turned to reveal a youthful face and powerful frame that contrasted with his white hair and beard. A gleaming gold cross hung around his neck, marking him as a priest. He held up his hand to sketch out a cross and intoned, “ _ In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti.” _

The guard crossed himself. “Thank you,  _ papa,”  _ he said, and nudged his companion back outside.

Once the door was closed, the priest turned to Leonard and Sara, who had managed to slip on their stolen tunics. “Thank you,” Sara said, “but I think we should be going.”

The priest tilted his head and raised his eyebrows. “Those two will be just around the corner at the sweetcake vendor’s stand, waiting for you. I said I would see to you, and I did not mean I would hand you over to the  _ milites!  _ But… should I expect an angry father to come knocking on the monastery door seeking his daughter?”

Sara shook her head. “No. My father is… very far away from here. Besides, he likes Leonard.”

“He tolerates me,” Leonard corrected.

“That’s not true!”

The priest chuckled at their banter. “Well, you’re not eloping, and you’re far too well-spoken to be runaway slaves, despite your clothing! So why were the guards after you? Have either of you harmed anyone?”

“No,” Sara said, while Leonard answered, “I plead the fifth.”

The priest looked at him strangely. “You plead honoring your father and mother?”

Leonard blinked, while Sara nudged him and murmured teasingly, “I think you need to watch  _ The Ten Commandments _ again!” She turned her attention back to the priest, who still seemed puzzled.  “Thank you for helping us, but we really need to go. We have to find some friends who have gone missing.”

The older man looked at them, one after the other, once more. Then he blew out a breath of acceptance. “Well, if you are going to walk the streets of Nicaea, you should not do it in bare feet. Or in slave tunics! Come with me, Leonard and...” He paused, obviously waiting for a name.

“Sara. Thank you. And what should we call you? _ Papa?”  _  The word… title?... came out awkwardly.

The priest smiled. “You don’t sound comfortable with that. Quite all right. Call me Nicholas.”

He ushered them through a side door, leading to an open courtyard where other men in plain robes and tunics tended rows of vegetables. He called to one of them. “Aristide!”

A teenager with inky black hair jumped up from his weeding and ran to Nicholas. “How can I serve,  _ papa?” _

“Do I remember correctly that you and your brothers here have been collecting clothing to distribute to the poor?”

The youngster nodded enthusiastically. His eagerness reminded Leonard a bit of Jax. “Yes,  _ papa!  _ We have it in one of the old  _ triclinia!” _

“Lead the way, then!” Nicholas said with a smile.

As they followed the young man, Leonard asked, “Why do you need the kid to show you around?”   
  
“I am simply a guest here, awaiting the Emperor’s great council. My home is to the far south, in Myra on  _ Mare Nostrum. _ So, like you, I am a stranger in a strange land.” Nicholas chuckled at their surprised looks. “Your Greek is good, but you both have an accent that gives you away as  _ barbari. _ I’m having trouble placing it, though.  _ Galates?” _

“Yes,” Leonard answered, grateful for having absorbed some trivia about ancient Gaul while casing a museum so many years ago. That trivia also included the fact that “barbarian” meant something quite different to Greco-Romans than it did to modern Americans.

“It is strange that you both have come so far with so little,” Nicholas asked, just a bit probingly.

Sara held up a hand. “I promise you, we haven’t harmed anyone--”

“Except maybe scaring that donkey out of its wits. If it had any,” Leonard muttered.

“Nor will we. We just want to find our friends,” Sara finished, ignoring Leonard’s aside.

Nicholas frowned slightly, but did not press. “Very well, then. Let’s get you ready so you can go.”


	3. Ghost Of The Past - Or Future

Sara smoothed down the skirt of the much finer, longer white dress Aristide had found for her. A  _ stola, _ he’d called it. It didn’t quite have enough flare for her to fight in should the need arise (and considering they were trying to stop an assassination, that seemed to be a given), but if need be she could tear slits into it to give herself room to move. She grabbed the  _ stola’s _ accompanying blue shawl and went back out to the courtyard garden, where Leonard was waiting.

Somehow they’d managed to find him clothing that covered the worst of the scars that always made him self-conscious. His woolen tunic was the same shade of blue as her shawl. It hung just below his knees, with sleeves that went just to his elbows. Leather gladiator sandals covered his calves, and the most vicious defensive scars on his forearms were concealed by leather gauntlets that extended from just below his elbows to partly cover his hands, leaving his talented thief’s fingers free. He was flexing those fingers now, trying to get a feel for the new gear.

“They tell me one of the brothers used to be a boxer in the gladiator games. Can you believe these--” he held up one gauntleted arm-- “used to have spikes on ‘em?”

Sara nodded. “I do. There were a few in the League who were trained to use them.” She shuddered at the memory of one of those fights, witnessed near the start of her first tour with the League. And she’d thought conditions aboard the Amazo were brutal…

Leonard reached out to touch her arm, stirring her from unpleasant memories. “Hey. What we were is what made us who we are, remember?”

She covered his hand with her own and nodded, giving him a slight smile. “Thanks.”

“So where will you seek your friends?” 

They moved apart as Nicholas and Aristide joined them. The older man’s eyebrow was raised either in expectation or surprise at their display. Sara decided it was the former, and said, “Well, they would have been looking for… information, so… someplace where people talk.”

Helpfully, Aristide suggested, “There is the marketplace… or the public bathhouses.”

“I don’t think Mick would go anywhere near a bathhouse,” Leonard said.

“And the marketplace might be just a little too public,” Sara added.

“What kind of information were they trying to find?” Nicholas asked.

Leonard answered, “The kind you get in not-so-nice places.”

“Which may be why they’re missing,” Sara said.

Nicholas frowned. “If we were in Myra, I would be able to tell you where to find such… not-so-nice places.” 

“I know where to find them,” Aristide volunteered. “Before the brothers took me in, I lived on the streets and worked in the  _ tabernae _  and  _ popinae _ of the poorer quarter of the city. I heard many whispered things in those places. I will take you.”

_ “We  _ will take them,” Nicholas corrected. “You are just a novice, and your abbott will not allow you to wander alone.”

“But  _ papa,  _ you should not…”

Nicholas was firm. “If one is to stand against evil, one must be willing to walk where it is found.” He looked back at Sara and Leonard. “As I’m sure you know, being  _ agentes in rebus." _

He smiled grimly as Sara furrowed her brow, and in a low voice said, “Come, my friends! I did not survive Diocletian’s persecution without learning to recognize Imperial spies! You both hold yourselves like warriors. And Leonard, while you were waiting for Sara, you were observing everything around you, not missing a single detail. Sara, you do the same, but, more than that--” 

He paused, and continued, not unkindly, “Just a moment ago you had the look of a woman who had seen too much and had to keep too many secrets.”

The smile turned friendlier. “But I saw no lie in your eyes when you promised that you do not seek to harm anyone. I will not betray your mission.”

“Neither will I!” Aristide promised.

“Well, thanks for that,” Leonard said. “But we still need to figure out where our friends have gone.”

“What kinds of not-so-nice things were they trying to learn about?” Nicholas prompted.

Sara considered for a moment, then asked, “Where can we find malcontents? People who don’t like Constantine’s rule?” 

Nicholas’ eyes widened. “Supporters of Licinius and of the old Roman gods?”

“Exactly,” Sara replied, even though she had no idea who “Licinius” was. (And this was one of those times when she really missed having her historian around, even if he was doing important work on Earth-X.)

“But Licinius is dead!” Aristide protested, just loudly enough for some of the brothers to look up from their gardening. Nicholas put up a calming hand and motioned for the others to follow him. 

They passed into a room where another pair of brothers huddled over a sheaf of parchments strewn across a table. Nicholas gave them a nod and led onward through the room, to an open-roofed atrium with a small pool of water in the middle of the floor, right under the opening. 

He led them to a corner of the atrium, and in a low voice said, “Licinius may be dead, but he left behind a son--”

“Who is barely eleven years old!” Aristide objected.

“The Empire has been ruled by a beardless boy before,” Nicholas countered. “And not all are willing to accept a Christian emperor, even if he hasn’t fully embraced the faith.”

“Sometimes it’s easier to prop a kid up as a figurehead,” Leonard said, meeting Sara’s eyes.

She knew what he was thinking about. In just about two thousand years, a young boy would be propped up as a ruler, only to be the puppet of a madman. “So who needs the figurehead?”

“I think I know where to find out,” Aristide said.

* * *

The boy led them through the streets, Nicholas beside him, Leonard and Sara just on their heels. As they walked, Leonard observed the bustle of the city. Vendors called out to potential customers. Groups of men in fine togas stood before a public bathhouse, the younger ones debating the merits of different gladiators while the older ones argued religion and politics (which, Leonard gathered, were pretty much the same thing here). Flocks of women in bright shawls fluttered in and out of shops. A group of excitedly screaming children chased after a ball. And Roman guards kept watch over it all.

(Some of them nibbling on the Roman equivalent of doughnuts.)

“It could almost be Star City,” Sara murmured to him. “Or Central.”

“Oh, sure. Aside from the clothes, the architecture, the damned donkeys…and what they leave behind,” he muttered as he sidestepped a slightly steaming pile.

She laughed at his complaint. “I was talking about the people, Leonard. Seems like no matter where we go, people don’t really change.”

“Hmm. I’m not sure whether I should be pleased or appalled about that,” he mused.

As they walked on, the streets became just a bit seedier, the people on them dressed just a little more shabbily, the guards becoming fewer and fewer. Aristide slowed and then motioned them into a small alley.

“I think the not-so-nice place you want is Lysias’  _ popina, _ right over there on the corner,” he said. “But I think not-so-nice is putting it mildly.”

Leonard had noticed the crowded open storefront, packed with men and women talking and drinking. With a smirk he asked, “So, would you call it a wretched hive of scum and villainy?”

Sara bit back a laugh and nudged him with her elbow, while Aristide nodded slowly. “I think you could say that. Especially around the dicing tables. Watch your step. This place can be a little rough.”

Leonard couldn’t help it. He barked out a laugh of his own at the joke the boy couldn’t possibly have understood.

Sara rolled her eyes and elbowed Leonard just a little more firmly. “We’ve been in some pretty rough places before. We can handle ourselves,” she said. She looked at Nicholas, her eyes lighting on his cross. “Nicholas, I know you want to stand against evil, but can you do it a little more… anonymously?”   


“Of course,” the priest said, tucking his cross beneath his robe.

“And…” Sara peeked around the corner of the alley for just a moment, “I think I might be a little too respectable for that place.”

With that, she reached down to the hem of her dress and tore a vertical slit along one leg. Standing up straight again, she tugged at the neckline of the dress, pulling it down for a tantalizing peek at her creamy skin.

Well, tantalizing for Leonard. But a slightly strangled sound from Aristide interrupted his enjoyment of the view.

Sara giggled a little. “Sorry, guys. Don’t mean to shock you. But… when in Rome… or on the seedy side of Nicaea…”

“Well, no one will mistake you for respectable,” Nicholas said, his eyebrows raised more in amusement than in shock. “Are you prepared for the attention that will attract?”

His eyes slid over to Leonard as he asked the question, but Sara answered lightly. “Like I said, we can handle ourselves!”

Leonard nodded in agreement, and said, “We shouldn’t go in together. Might look suspicious.”

“I used to know someone in Lysias’ kitchen,” Aristide said. “I’ll go there, see if he’s still there and if I can learn anything.” Nicholas opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, the boy said, “Better for me to go alone. If my friend is still there, he’ll trust me but probably not anyone else.”

“He’s right,” Sara said. “Go. See what you can find out, then wait for us back here.”

The boy nodded darted off. She turned to the priest. “Nicholas, you check out the bar, see what people are talking about.  _ In vino veritas, _ after all.”

“An interesting observation,” Nicholas said. “And what will you do?”

“We’ll follow in a moment and check out the gossip around the dicing tables,” Sara replied. “And in any convenient dark corners.”

Nicholas gave them a single nod and set off. Leonard smirked down at her. “Convenient dark corners, eh?”

“Down, boy!” she chuckled. Then, suddenly, she grabbed the front of his tunic and pulled him down for a kiss. A second later, Leonard heard footsteps behind them, and the clearing of a male throat.

They pulled away and turned to see a Roman guard watching them, shaking his head. “Find someplace else,” the guard told them. “Out here you’ll scare the donkeys.”

“They deserve it,” Leonard muttered, lowly enough for only Sara to hear. She giggled, linking an arm through his and leaning into him, as if a bit tipsy. Together they strolled… well, more like staggered… past the amused guard, crossing the street (and dodging more donkey “souvenirs” than they’d had to avoid in the nicer part of town) to the  _ popina. _

Leonard quickly decided the place was the Greco-Roman answer to Central City’s Saints and Sinners. It seemed that no matter what the century, a bar was a bar: Noisy with varied conversations, smelling of spilt wine, and crowded, with men casting envious looks Leonard’s way (and women casting equally envious looks at Sara). Nicholas had managed to squeeze into a spot at the bar, between a couple of workmen who were swaying as they stood. Whoever this Lysias was, he was doing a brisk business. 

They wove through the gathering, finding a pair of stools near one of the dicing tables. Leonard pretended to watch the game, but in reality was focused on the babble around them, trying to find any important threads that could lead to their teammates and stop the assassination.

It didn’t take long. Apparently Emperor Constantine was due to make a grand entrance into Nicaea tomorrow, to be followed by rounds of feasting and celebration… two days of excessive, carnal indulgence before the planned austerity of the church conference. And the people of Nicaea would pay for the privilege of hosting it all. From what Leonard could gather, the patrons in this bar were not pleased about it.

Sara nudged him, and he leaned down so she could apparently nuzzle his ear, while sharing what she’d heard. “Seems the Emperor isn’t too popular in this part of town. Too many taxes, too many new rules, too many people losing status because of them.”

He nodded and returned the favor, relaying the things he heard (while also getting in a little nip on her ear). ”So now what?”

She purred a little before pulling back and meeting his eyes with a slight smile. “I don’t know. I’m making this up as I go.”

He chuckled. “Guess we should see what the others can tell us,” he said, noticing that Nicholas was gently pushing aside one of the workmen who’d decided the priest was a good leaning post. Once he had the drunken man leaning against the bar instead, Nicholas stepped away, leaving an open space and exiting the  _ popina. _

Leonard tightened his hand on Sara’s shoulder when he saw who was tending the bar. Her sudden stiffness told him she’d seen, too. Then she relaxed a little and brushed against him suggestively. “Act casual,” she said quietly. “He doesn’t know who we are. Not yet. And we shouldn’t leave right after Nicholas did.”

Leonard stifled a growl and settled for watching the bartender serving wine and laughing with the customers. When he’d had all he could stand, he said, “Let’s get out of here.”

With a flirtatious giggle, Sara tugged him off his stool and led him through the crowd to the exit. They reeled past the gossips, past the gamblers, past the drunken workmen at the bar.

Past Vandal Savage, who was busy pouring cups of wine, smiling his crocodile smile at his patrons, and utterly unaware of the two future enemies in the crowd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise!


	4. The Valley Of The Shadow

If Savage had noticed them at all, he’d hopefully written them off as nothing more than a drunken prostitute and her equally drunken client. They kept up the act, trading kisses and caresses while they lurched back to the alley where Nicholas was waiting with a worried expression.

The tipsy act fell away instantly. “Where’s the kid?” Leonard asked.

“I saw him being led away by two men,” the priest answered. “If he gets hurt…”

Sara muttered an old Arabic curse. “We’ll get him back. Which way did they go?”

“Back around the other corner of the building. They took him inside there. I only followed far enough to see that there were more men near that entrance.  _ Many _ more men,” Nicholas added. “And I noticed they were all wearing strange black stones around their necks.”

“So was Savage,” Leonard said. When Nicholas furrowed his brow, he clarified, “The barkeeper.”

“You mean Lysias?”

“We know him by a different name,” Sara said, turning over possibilities in her mind. “But whatever the name, he’s trouble.”

“And since trouble usually manages to find us, I think we’d better get moving,” Leonard advised.

They started walking toward the other end of the alley. “What else can you tell us?” Sara asked. “Did Sav- Lysias say anything that might give us a clue about what he’s up to?”

“He mentioned that his wine will be served to all the people going to Constantine’s grand entrance to the city tomorrow,” Nicholas replied. “He said he had donkey carts full of wineskins ready to go, and workers to pass the wine out.”

“It’s a great cover to get a potential assassin along the parade route,” Leonard said. Then he stepped a little closer to Sara and said, “We’ve got someone on our six.”

“I know,” she answered. “Take the right up ahead.”

They turned the corner and stopped, hiding in the shadow of some stacked barrels. Sara put a finger to her lips to tell Nicholas to remain silent.

After a moment, they heard a light footstep, and a small figure darted into view. Together, Sara and Leonard caught the follower, and stared at each other in surprise when they realized it was Zari. At her throat she wore a black stone, shot through with a glimmer of electric blue light.

She wasn’t wearing her totem.

“Z! It’s us!”

Sara’s words seemed to fall on deaf ears. Zari kept struggling against them, and the blue glow from the stone seemed to get brighter. Sara grabbed the leather thong holding the stone and yanked hard, pulling it off the other woman’s neck. 

Zari sagged into Leonard’s arms, her head bowed. After a few deep breaths, she looked up at Sara.

“It’s you! Thank God.”

* * *

“It felt like I was a...  _ puppet.” _

Leonard wasn’t sure whether he was angrier about what Zari said, or the dull tone in which she said it. The idea of strings still infuriated him. And probably always would. 

Once she had recovered her equilibrium, they’d made their way to a slightly nicer section of the city and stopped at a very public fountain. If Savage had set any more tails on them, at least they wouldn’t come near in this open spot with Roman guards hanging about.

Zari was perched on the side of the fountain, Sara and Nicholas on either side of her while Leonard paced in front of them. Zari went on, “He took my totem and put that thing on me instead. I didn’t know anything but to do what he said. I didn’t even recognize you two when he sent me to follow you.”

Leonard stopped pacing and faced her, clenching his fists. “And what about Mick and Raymond?”

“They’ve got the necklaces, too. They had to knock Mick out to put his on, but Ray was awake for his turn. When they put it on him, it was like he went… blank,” Zari said, horror in her voice. “Then they put one on me, and it made me feel blank. Empty. I could see and hear, but I couldn’t do anything unless Lysias… Savage… told me to.”

“What sort of demonic power can do this?” Nicholas breathed, sharing Zari’s horror.

Sara had wrapped the stone in her shawl. Now she opened the bundle to study it, careful not to touch it. “Well, it’s not exactly demonic,” she said. “I’ve seen this stuff before.”

“Ray called it Nth metal,” Zari said.

“That’s what the professor said he used to turn those kids into monsters in 19… in Harmony Falls,” Leonard said, catching himself before giving the year. Not that Nicholas probably would have understood that any better than he did “Harmony Falls,” but the less he let slip, the better.

“He’s got these things on a lot of people,” Zari told them. “We were trying to get a head count when we got caught. I’d say at least fifty, and they’re going to be out in the crowd when the Emperor comes in tomorrow.”

“Like I said, great cover,” Leonard said. “Any idea which one will be the trigger man?”

“The what?” Nicholas asked in puzzlement.

“The assassin,” Sara clarified as she re-wrapped the stone. “If I were Savage, I’d have more than one at the ready. Just in case.”

Zari looked thoughtful. “He did have a plan drawn up. He’s got it in his office, along with a big rock of that Nth metal stuff. And my totem.”

“Does he know what your totem is?” Leonard asked. The last thing they needed was Vandal Savage with powers over air.

“No. He just thought it was a pretty piece of jewelry,” Zari replied. “So now what, Captain?”

Sara pursed her lips, thinking. Then she said, “Well, we could drop a hint to the Roman guard that there’s funny business going on.”

“Try to throw a wrench into the works?” Leonard asked.   
  
Zari shook her head. “He’s been bribing leaders of the guard to look the other way while he does business.”

“The bribes probably didn’t have to be too large,” Nicholas said. “When Constantine dissolved the Praetorian Guard, its former members were scattered to places like this, and many of them still have not forgiven him for their loss of status.”

“Nothing is ever easy,” Sara sighed, closing her eyes. After a moment, she opened them again. “We’ll have to wait until dark…”

“But your friends and mine are in danger!” Nicholas objected.

“I know you’re worried,” Sara told him. “I am too. But we’ve dealt with this man before, and we know a frontal assault in broad daylight won’t work. It’s too dangerous, for our friends and for Aristide. I need you to trust me.” 

When Nicholas sighed and nodded, she said, “Good. I’ve got an idea. Leonard, are you up for a little breaking and entering?”

“Always.”

* * *

Aristide strained against his bonds once more, but couldn’t budge them. He remained firmly tied to a chair inside Lysias’  _ tablinum. _

Not that it would have mattered, really. Even if he got free, he’d be stopped instantly, either by the big man with the bald head, or by his dark-haired companion. Both wore blank expressions on their faces, and at their throats they wore black rocks shot through with a glowing blue substance. They stood on either side of the door that lay between Aristide and freedom.

That door opened, and Lysias strode through. The older man wore a dark wool tunic and toga, and a finer version of the black rock necklace hung around his neck. He stood and studied Aristide for a moment, then walked around him. “You’ve grown a bit since the days when you used to steal bread from my kitchen,” Lysias said. 

Aristide took in a surprised breath before he could stop himself. Behind him, Lysias chuckled. “Oh, I never forget a face. It seems the Christian faith is agreeing with you.”

Aristide could hear noises behind him, the  _ tink-tink-tink _ of metal against stone, reminding him of the stonemasons who’d once given him bread he didn’t have to steal. Lysias went on, “Yes, I know you are a novice now. There’s very little that happens in Nicaea these days without my knowing about it. But what I don’t know is why the Bishop of Myra is suddenly so interested in my activities.”

“I… I don’t know what you are talking about,” Aristide answered, while a prayer ran through his mind.  _ Deliver me from mine enemies, O my God! _

The  _ tinking  _ sound stopped. “Oh, come now!” Lysias went on. “I know it was him in my  _ popina  _ today. But why would such an eminent, holy man be prowling around this part of the city, in the company of some very… shady characters?”

When Aristide didn’t answer, Lysias said diffidently, “Not that it truly matters. I have enough Roman guards in my debt to ensure that my plan succeeds. Your presence just gives me one more tool to make sure that the Christian faith falls along with Constantine.”

Aristide’s eyes widened, and a snippet of a psalm came to his lips.  _ “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want…” _

“Prayer will not help you now, boy!” Lysias walked back into Aristide’s line of sight, a wicked smile on his face and a thong with a glowing stone in his hand. “You will go down in history, my young friend, as the man who killed the first… and only... Christian emperor,” he said, moving closer, holding the necklace open.

_ “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…” _

Lysias drew the thong around Aristide’s neck.

_ “I will fear no evil…” _

The stone touched his throat, and Aristide fell into blackness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, cliffhanger! And I must apologize in advance for the great potential of making you wait a little longer than a day for the resolution. Due to work, and my family wanting to actually spend time with me on Christmas Day (silly, huh?) I'm a little behind although Chapter 5 is well along the way.


	5. With Wings Like Eagles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Action tends to be a stumbling point for me, and thus the delay in this chapter. But on the other hand, the story has now grown by an additional chapter! (And Chapter 6 is already written.)

They had to do some breaking and entering before they could do the  _ real _ breaking and entering. Leonard and Sara snuck into a Roman armory while Zari and Nicholas kept watch (the latter troubled for a moment by the “sin” of theft, but quickly reconciling it with the thought of the greater good). They came out with arms full of the supplies needed for Sara’s plan, including dark-colored tunics and leggings that wouldn’t give them away in the shadows of the evening, and a satchel that Leonard slung across his body after they’d changed into the darker gear.

They made their way back to the seedy neighborhood where the last of the gamblers in Savage’s _ popina _ were either drinking away their winnings or their sorrows. Savage himself rotated between pouring final drinks at the bar and overseeing the loading of a cart parked in front. 

They slipped into the taller building next to the house. An  _ insula, _ Nicholas called it; the Greco-Roman version of a high rise. Only four stories high, granted… but that was plenty high enough for their needs.

And fortunately, Roman apartment buildings were exactly the opposite of the 21st-century versions. Instead of a penthouse with presumably law-abiding citizens who would likely call the Roman guards on them, the topmost floor was home to poorer tenants who hung their laundry from the rooftop pergola, and who were all too happy to stay quiet and out of the way in exchange for the bread and wine Nicholas brought for them (purchased rather than stolen; Nicholas could stretch the concept of the greater good only so far).

While Nicholas passed out his alms, the others prepared their gear and peered over the stone balcony at Savage’s mostly darkened house. The streetside  _ popina _ was just a part of the building, which stretched back over half the block. “Do you know where the office is?” Leonard asked Zari.

“Practically in the middle,” she answered. “Between those two open spaces.”

“The  _ atrium _ and the  _ peristylium,” _ Leonard said. When the women stared at him in surprise, he said, “Casing museums taught me more than just how to break into ‘em, you know.”

“Well, right now we need to focus on breaking in… and getting out,” Sara said, knotting the last of their stolen rope. “Any suggestions?”

Leonard’s eyes narrowed as he studied the building again, considering his choices. Then he asked Zari, “Does the office open to both sides?” When she nodded, he said, “Then we’ll go for the  _ peristylium. _ The courtyard garden in the back,” he clarified. “Less chance of someone seeing us from the street, and more places to hide if we need to.”

He looked at Sara. “Will that work?”

Now it was Sara’s turn to consider, studying their target and then looking back at their own building. “I’d feel a lot better about it if I had some of Ollie’s gear,” she said, “but yeah. I think it’ll work.”

She picked up the bow they’d taken from the armory, along with the special arrow she’d prepped, and walked a little way down the balcony. She picked a spot and nocked the arrow. “Wish me luck,” she said.

“Lord, do not be far from your servant Sara. Be her strength and her guide.”

Sara smiled at Nicholas, who’d rejoined them after distributing the last of the bread and wine. She drew back the bowstring, aimed carefully and released.

The arrow flew into the night, trailing its ribbon of rope behind. When it hit its target, Sara looped the remaining end around one post of the pergola and tied it off securely. Then she picked up the shorter ropes she’d prepared and passed them out. As Nicholas took his, she asked, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Are you asking because I am old or because I am a priest?” Nicholas chuckled. “I may be 55, but I am not weak. Just a few weeks ago I carried a cross through Myra to reenact the Passion.”

“Listen, this is dangerous,” Sara began.

Nicholas countered, “And I sent a boy into that danger! I cannot leave him there any more than you can leave your own people!”

Sara sighed. “Okay, then. Just like we planned. I’ll go first, you follow one at a time.” She hopped up onto the parapet and looped her short rope over the longer one, holding on to the ends of the loop. She chuckled. “Ziplining in ancient Greece! This’ll be fun!’

“You have a weird sense of fun, Canary,” Leonard said. “Be careful.”

She leaned down to kiss him. “Always.” Then she stepped off the parapet, sliding silently down the rope, across the alley and onto Savage’s roof.

Leonard climbed up on the parapet with a sigh. “Times like these I wish I’d stuck to robbing banks,” he said, looping his own rope.

“No, you don’t,” Zari said, smirking.

He snorted. “Maybe just a little. See you on the other side!” He pushed off into the darkness.

Zari watched him descend, then turned to Nicholas. “Are you ready for this?”

Nicholas nodded, murmuring, “Isaiah said,  _ ‘They who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength.’” _

Zari climbed up with him and helped him loop his rope. He laughed a little disbelievingly, “But I don’t think Isaiah was talking about leaping from buildings! Still…” He took a deep breath.  _ “‘They shall mount up with wings like eagles!’” _

With that, he stepped off the side, sliding quickly down the rope. When Zari saw that Leonard and Sara had caught the older man, she looped her own rope and followed him down. When she reached them, Nicholas was bent over, hands on his thighs, trying to catch his breath. She patted him on the back.

“That was pretty badass!” she told him.

Nicholas chuckled as he straightened up. “Now I understand a little of what the writer of the book of  _ Proverbs _ did not: the way of the eagle in the sky! But I’m afraid I do not understand what a disobedient donkey has to do with it!”

Leonard choked a little at that. Sara shushed them all and lightly dropped into the garden. By the time Zari and the men had followed her down, Sara had already knocked out a man wearing one of the black stones. She removed the necklace, and Leonard helped her drag him behind a planter before they rejoined Zari and Nicholas. 

“That way,” Zari whispered, pointing to a door on one side of the courtyard.

Quietly, they crept to the door. Leonard knelt down for a moment to examine the knob; then, seeing no lock, he and Sara both pressed their ears to the wood to listen. Then they drew back and nodded to each other. Leonard motioned to Zari and Nicholas to step behind him. Then, silently, he signaled a count to Sara:  _ One-two-three.  _ On  _ three _ he pushed the door open, letting Sara dash through before he followed her in.

Zari held a hand up, signaling Nicholas to wait while they listened to the sounds of kicks and punches inside. The noises stopped with a metallic  _ bong.  _ Zari grinned and motioned for Nicholas to follow her.

Sara and Leonard were standing over Ray and Mick, who were now sitting on the floor, the shattered remains of their black rock necklaces beside them. They looked about as dazed as she’d felt when Sara had liberated her a few hours ago.

Well, maybe Mick was a little more dazed, if the red mark on his head and the bronze vase in Leonard’s hand were any indication. Mick grunted and looked up at his partner. “You hit me again!” he grumbled.

Leonard smirked a little as he set the vase down. “Sorry, pal, but you weren’t quite yourself when we came in.” He extended a hand to help Mick to his feet. “Anybody else around we should be worried about?”

Ray answered as Sara helped him to his feet. “Just one other guard out in the back garden. Everyone else went with Savage…” He stopped, his eyes widening. “Sara, it was Savage!”

“We know,” Sara soothed, while Mick said, “Thought we killed him already!” Then, after a beat, he said, “Oh, right. We haven’t yet.”

“Ix-nay on the ime-tay ravel-tay atter-chay!” Ray hissed, jerking his head toward Nicholas. Then he paused. “Wait a minute… do ancient Romans understand Pig Latin?”

Nicholas snorted. “I may be old but I am hardly ancient! Nor am I Roman… I am Greek! But I have trouble understanding you people even when you speak regular Latin. Gaul must be a strange place.”

“You have no idea!” Sara chuckled.

The humor vanished from Nicholas’ voice as he went on, “But what I want to know is what this…  _ Savage _ … did with Aristide.”

“Who’s Aristide?” Ray asked.

“My responsibility,” Nicholas answered.

Leonard added, “Savage’s people caught him in the kitchen a couple of hours ago.”

Mick furrowed his brow. “Skinny kid, black hair? Sorta looks like you used to, Boss?” he asked, getting grins from Sara and Zari, and a low growl of  _ “Mick!” _ from Leonard.

“He’s with the group Savage is taking to the proconsul’s house,” Ray said. “They’re spending the night there, to wait for the Emperor’s arrival in the morning. He also took the rock he’s been making those necklaces from. It’s lava rock imbued with just a bit of Nth metal, and somehow the combination lets him control people. He’s probably going to put a couple of those things on the proconsul and some of the other city leaders.”

Sara huffed. “Savage has his pieces in place. We’d better do the same with ours. Z, where’d he put your totem?”

“Inside that.” Zari pointed to a table against one wall. A locked metal box sat on top of it. 

Leonard moved to the table and inspected the box. “Now  _ this  _ is old school!”

“Can you get it open?” Ray asked.

Leonard shot him a withering look while moving to the table. “Please.” He dipped into the leather satchel he’d taken from the armory, pulling out a thin, narrow piece of metal and getting to work on the lock. After a moment, he had the box open. “What did I tell you?” he boasted, reaching into the box and pulling out a pair of scrolls. He passed the larger one to Ray and the smaller to Nicholas. Then he reached in again and took out Zari’s totem. “I believe this is yours?”

Zari sighed in relief as she took it from him and put it on. “Thanks.”

Ray opened the scroll, rolling it out on the table. “This is the map Savage was using to plan the attack on the Emperor. He marked out where all of his wine carts would be, see? X marks the spot.”

“There are a lot of them,” Sara said, studying the map. “Which ones are the hit men?”

“All of them are armed,” Ray said, “but Savage changed his plans a little tonight.”

“He’s gonna use the kid,” Mick said. “Liked the idea of having a Christian murder the first Christian emperor.”

“But why would he care?” Zari asked.

“You mean besides the fact that he’s a megalomaniac?” Ray returned.

“It seems the Church has something he wants, very badly,” Nicholas said, reading the small scroll Leonard had given him. “According to this, it’s called the staff of Horus.”   
  
Ray gasped. “I remember Kendra telling me about that. Guys, this is not good. Like, ‘end of the world’ not good. If he gets his hands on that thing…”

“That’s not gonna happen,” Sara declared. She looked back at the map. “Where is the proconsul’s house?”

Nicholas pointed to a spot near the open square that was surrounded by Xs. “It’s here, across the piazza from the basilica. But it will be heavily guarded. We won’t be able to get in there the way we did here.”

“Ray, can you…?”

Ray answered before Sara finished her question. “The suit doesn’t work. Same problem that’s blocking the comms.”

“Leonard?”

He studied the map for another moment, and exchanged a look with Mick, who frowned and shook his head. Leonard sighed. “Sorry, Sara. That place looks like a fortress, and all we’ve got are the Roman equivalents of stone knives and bearskins. Getting in will be next to impossible, even for us. We’re going to have to wait for them to come out.”

“That won’t be until just before the emperor arrives,” Nicholas said.

“So, we’re going to have to do this in broad daylight?” Zari asked.

“Looks like,” Sara said. “So how do we get close to Savage?”

“I might just have an idea about that,” Nicholas told them.


	6. Cutting The Strings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to apologize to Ranger_of_Estel for being so slow to finish this Secret Santa fic. Life sometimes has other plans that don't include fic writing or posting! But I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Thanks as always to Jael for the beta!

“Feels like we landed in the middle of the Rose Parade,” Leonard quipped to Sara.

She snorted and went back to surveying their surroundings. It was late morning, and the streets of Nicaea were lined with color: people wearing brightly dyed tunics and togas, children with baskets of flowers intended to be strewn in front of the emperor, balconies swathed in buntings of indigo, and banners of crimson and imperial purple waving in the light breeze.

In drab contrast to all the vibrancy, a procession of black, white and brown made its way down the middle of the street. At its head were high-ranking priests, including Nicholas, wearing black robes overlaid with white vestments. Sara and Leonard followed in the train of acolytes, their identities concealed by their hooded brown robes.

(“Snart, dressed as a monk?” Ray had scoffed when Sara laid out her plan, subsiding only when Leonard turned an unholy glare his way.)

Savage’s revised plan, according to Ray and Mick, put him and Aristide in the proconsul’s entourage, which would await Constantine on the steps in front of the basilica. It was the best place to ensure that the boy would be seen. And just in case Aristide failed, Savage’s other operatives were still scattered around the large square in front of the basilica, passing out wine to the crowd… especially to the Roman guards.

At least, they would be until Mick, Ray and Zari got to them. The trio had split up to work the other three sides of the square, each wearing a counterfeit version of Savage’s black rock necklaces. The camouflage would let them get close enough to each of Savage’s drones to be able to remove and destroy the real necklaces.

(“You sure breaking those things won’t alert him?” Sara had asked.

Zari shook her head. “Seems those stones are just like… receivers, opening you up to Savage’s will. And his stone is like a transmitter. Sends stuff out, doesn’t get anything back. Otherwise he’d have sent someone after the three of us already.”

“I’d like to see ‘im try,” Mick had growled. “I’d love a chance to kill him again.”

“Not until I’ve had my crack at him,” Leonard answered.) 

Realistically, with all the crowds, Sara didn’t expect her teammates would be able to get to all of the drones. That’s why she and Leonard were hidden amongst the acolytes, intending to get close enough to Savage to remove and destroy his master necklace. Their group would also be placed on the basilica’s steps, beside the proconsul’s people.

They reached the open square, and Leonard nudged Sara. “There he is,” he murmured.

Savage stood a few steps above and behind the proconsul, his black rock pendant glowing against the indigo toga draped over his snowy white tunic. Aristide was on the step below him, in a red toga that seemed miles too big for him.

“Kid’s probably got a weapon under that bedsheet,” Leonard said. “And that’s not the only problem. Check out the bling on Savage’s buddies. Raymond was right.”

He met Sara’s eyes. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

“Lucky for you the comms don’t work here!” Sara chuckled. But the brief glimmer of humor faded when Savage put an almost fatherly hand on the boy’s shoulder. It reminded her uncomfortably of the relationship Savage had… would have… with Per Degaton.

Then Leonard came up with an even more uncomfortable thought. “Do you suppose he’s already killed Kendra and Carter in this time period?”

Sara shuddered a little at the idea. “Whether he did or not, we already know we can’t kill him. Let’s just hope we can stop him.”

A blare of horns drew their attention to the arch on the northern side of the square. A group of musicians was passing through, carrying instruments that sounded much like those played by 21st century marching bands. “Like I said, the Rose Parade,” Leonard said. “We’re running out of time.”

Quickly, they went up the basilica steps, exchanging a brief nod with Nicholas as he took his place amongst the church hierarchs. 

(“I should be doing more,” Nicholas had said. “It’s my fault Aristide is involved in this.”

Sara had shaken her head. “Savage is too dangerous. Leave this to us.”   
  
“But I…”   
  
Sara shook her head again. “We’ve dealt with him before, Nicholas. Trust us. We’ll get Aristide out safe.”)

They climbed the stairs and wove through the group of acolytes, edging closer to Savage, whose attention was fixed on the arch and the last of the musicians marching through it. Sara reached for Leonard’s hand and squeezed it briefly. “Okay. You get the kid, I’ll deal with Savage,” she whispered.

Leonard squeezed back and nodded. “Be careful.”

They separated, Leonard moving toward Aristide while Sara moved a couple of steps above the one where Savage stood, intending to get to him from behind. She reached into her sleeve to draw the small dagger she’d taken from the armory the night before.

The horns sounded a fanfare. Through the arch came four horses, pulling a golden chariot. The purple-clad man standing next to the chariot driver could only be the Emperor Constantine.

The chariot circled the square, Constantine waving at the people who shouted his name and threw flowers in his path. As the vehicle made its loop, Savage gave Aristide a little push forward. Sara could see the boy reaching into his voluminous toga while Savage backed away, putting some distance between himself and his thrall.

Between the music and the cheering of the crowd, Aristide’s voice could barely be heard as he shouted, “In the name of Christ the true king!”

With those words he revealed the small but still deadly crossbow that had been hidden under his toga, leveling it at the emperor. Leonard threw himself at the boy, knocking him off his feet and sending the crossbow clattering away.

Sara closed in on Savage from behind and grabbed for his necklace, intending to cut it off him. But with some kind of sixth sense, he reached over his shoulder and grabbed her by the wrist, twisting her arm and making her drop her dagger as he whirled to face her.

“I thought your Christian commandments said ‘thou shalt not steal,’” he said in the oily voice Sara had hoped never to hear again.

She growled and broke his hold, sending him stumbling back into the group of officials wearing his stones. She scrambled for her knife again.

Savage chuckled and drew his own knife from his robes. He waved off the Roman guards who ran up, swords drawn. “She is  _ mine!”  _ he roared.

 

* * *

Zari had just removed a necklace from one of Savage’s people on the south side of the square when the cheering turned into screaming. She looked over at the basilica and saw Sara locked in a fight with Savage. She dropped the necklace and crushed the stone under her foot, then started running across the square to the basilica. Ray and Mick joined her from their sides of the square. But their headlong dash was cut off by a golden chariot that stopped in front of them, its passenger leveling a javelin at them.

“What the  _ hell _ is going on here?” the Emperor Constantine demanded.

 

* * *

Growing up on the streets had made Aristide something of a scrapper, with a wiry strength common to the formerly abused and underfed. (The same kind of strength that had once kept a young Leonard Snart alive long enough to be rescued by Mick Rory.) The boy clawed at Leonard, struggling to get out from under him.

But the older Leonard Snart remembered enough of that long-ago fight to be able to immobilize the kid, straddling him and using a knee to restrain one arm, his right hand to restrain the other. Aristide kept kicking, until Leonard pulled his necklace off. Then the boy went limp.

Leonard blew out a breath, then stiffened when someone laid hands on his arm and shoulder. He looked up and relaxed when he saw it was Nicholas. The old man helped him to his feet, and together they helped Aristide up. “Get him out of here!” Leonard ordered, and turned back to where Sara was fighting for her life.

 

* * *

In just about two thousand years, Savage would take advantage of a brief moment of distraction to get the drop on Sara. That wasn’t going to happen this time, no matter how concerned she might be for her team. One thing she’d learned as captain was to trust them, so she shoved any worry about the mission to the back of her mind, focusing instead on her opponent.

This younger version of Savage didn’t fight quite like the older one would one day. He was confident, yes, but didn’t use quite the same footwork and flourishes he would by the 22nd century. Not that he needed them, she reflected as she dodged another lunge.

Still, he didn’t seem to be able to read her moves quite as well as he would in the future. Probably hadn’t encountered anyone from the League of Assassins yet.

One thing that hadn’t changed, though, was his arrogance. “Aren’t you a little violent for an acolyte?” he asked.

“You don’t know the half of it!” Sara snarled.

 

* * *

Mick grabbed the javelin, pulling it out of the emperor’s grasp and tossing it aside in annoyance. “Get outta my way!” he shouted.

“You dare--” Constantine sputtered.

“I kicked your great-great-grandpa’s ass and I can kick yours too!”

Ray put his hands up appeasingly. “Your highness, we’re actually trying to protect you--”

Zari let out an irritated huff. “I don’t have time for this!” She tapped her amulet, then snapped her palms downward to create twin cyclones that lifted her up and over the chariot.

Constantine and his driver stared after her. In a voice now quavering somewhere between wonder and fear, the emperor demanded again, “What the  _ hell _ is going on here?”

* * *

 

The only good thing Leonard could say about Savage’s focus on Sara was that he wasn’t paying attention to any of his minions. Without any commands from their puppet master, they stood mindlessly, making it easy for him to remove their necklaces.

Nicholas followed him, stomping on the discarded stones and crushing them, while Aristide, now recovered, guided the dazed officials away from the fight.

“Sara!” Leonard shouted. “We’ve cut all the puppet strings! Let’s finish this!”

She nodded and whirled, sending her robe flaring and freeing her leg for a powerful roundhouse kick that sent Savage’s knife flying. He howled in frustration and went scrambling… not for the knife, but for the crossbow that still lay where it had fallen after Leonard’s tackle. Savage seized the weapon and turned, aiming it at Constantine. “In the name of Horus!” he cried, firing the bolt--

Which was stopped in its path by a whirlwind. “Not so fast!” Zari exclaimed. As the bolt clattered to the ground, she sent another blast of air toward Savage, knocking him off balance.

He stumbled down a few steps, stopping in front of Nicholas. The priest looked at him grimly, and intoned, “Praise be to the Lord my rock who trains my hands for war!”

Then he used one of those hands to land a solid punch to Savage’s jaw. The warlord toppled backward, hitting his head against one of the stone steps and laying still. But only still, not dead, as shown by the rise and fall of his chest.

“Knockout!” Ray rejoiced as he ran up with Mick. The other man grinned and slapped Nicholas on the back.

“That was badass, Preacher!”

Nicholas staggered a little, still shaking his hand out after the blow. “What  _ is _ it with you people and donkeys?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just an epilogue left... and then I'll share the prompts.


	7. Wrapping It All Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to apologize, especially to Ranger_of_estel, for this taking so long. Unfortunately life has not exactly been conducive to fic writing for the past few weeks.
> 
> Thanks again to Jael for the beta! Prompts will be in the end notes.

“It would be easier to execute him,” the emperor Constantine muttered while Leonard, Mick and Ray trussed the still-unconscious Savage up like a mummy from his native Egypt. 

If Egyptian mummies had been wrapped in layers of thick Roman rope.

It was almost disturbing to see how much Ray was enjoying that process. Maybe he wasn’t quite done carrying a torch for Kendra, Sara reflected as she dropped Savage’s master pendant to the ground and crushed it underfoot. She told Constantine, “Not really. Even without his little toys, he’s got followers who aren’t exactly pleased with the status quo. Execute him and you give them a martyr.”

“Let him live and I look weak!” the emperor countered.

Nicholas held up a quelling hand. “Majesty, perhaps it would be best to remember the words of our Lord here? ‘ _ Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.’” _

For some reason Constantine seemed to respect Nicholas. Perhaps it was the priestly vestments. Or maybe it was the priest’s powerful right hook. The emperor conceded, “Perhaps. But these followers…”

“Give ‘em a tax cut along with their bread and circuses and you’ll be fine,” Leonard counseled, rising to let Ray finish tying off the knots.

Constantine nodded thoughtfully. Then he said, “Speaking of food and entertainment, I’d like you all to be my guests at the dinner the proconsul is hosting tonight--”

Mick’s face lit up. “Food? I’m in!”

“Excellent!” the emperor said. “I’m told his cook makes the best dormice, stuffed and roasted and dipped in honey-- what’s wrong?”

Mick had started turning green. “He’s allergic to dormice,” Leonard explained.

“We’d have to pass anyway, your majesty. Gotta take care of this guy,” Sara said, indicating Savage, who was starting to stir within his bindings. 

That is, until Mick kicked him in the head and knocked him back out. Maybe as cover for his nausea… or maybe just a little payback for all the trouble the warlord had caused -- or, rather, would cause them someday.

“What will you do with him? Kill him somewhere else?” Constantine asked as Mick and Ray dumped the Savage mummy -- none too gently -- into one of his wine carts to take back to the Waverider.

“The less you know, the better,” Leonard answered.

Sara nodded. “Plausible deniability,” she said.

Constantine nodded again. “Then I will leave you to your task.” He turned to go up the steps into the proconsul’s house, stopping short when he saw Zari and Aristide trotting down the steps. The emperor turned back toward Sara, his brow raised. “About your companion--”

“The less you know, the better,” Sara said, repeating Leonard’s earlier advice. Unfortunately, their memory eraser had the same problem as the comms and Ray’s suit, so they’d have to fall back on Rip’s old standby of skepticism and disbelief.

The emperor opened his mouth to protest, but Nicholas spoke up again. “The words of the Psalmist might apply here, Majesty.  _ ‘He rides on the wings of the winds. He makes his messengers winds, his ministers a flaming fire.’” _

“Well, not this time,” Leonard murmured while the emperor’s eyes widened. He nodded at Nicholas and turned back, staring at Zari as he passed her on his way into the proconsul’s home.

Zari rolled her eyes and held up the leather satchel she was carrying. “Got Savage’s master stone.”

Ray jumped back to his feet, reaching for the bag. “Great! I want to--”

Sara raised a hand, stopping him in his tracks. “Leonard and I will handle this. You help Mick get Savage to the Waverider,” she said, motioning him to the cart. She took the bundle from Zari and leaned in to the other woman. “Keep an eye on them, will you?”

Zari grinned. “You’ve got it, Captain!”

“Are you sure you don’t want a donkey to pull the cart?” Nicholas asked while Mick and Ray picked up its handles.

“No, thanks!” Leonard said fervently, getting a laugh from Sara. She waved their teammates on their way before turning back to the old priest and his young friend.

“Thank you for helping us,” she said. “Both of you.”

“Thank you for saving me,” Aristide replied.

Leonard pointed at the boy. “Just stay out of trouble from now on, kid.”

Nicholas ruffled Aristide’s hair. “I’ll see to that,” he said. “Aristide’s going to be my assistant throughout the council, and then will come back with me to Myra.”

He extended a hand to Sara. “You and your people prevented a great evil.”

Sara shook his hand. “It’s what we do. Just make sure the staff of Horus gets hidden away.” 

“Just in case,” Leonard added. “Savage has a track record of turning up again like a bad penny.”   


“You people speak so strangely!” Nicholas chuckled. “But… the scroll said the staff is in the Church of Alexandria, and the bishop of that church is here for the council. I will speak with him.”

Then he leaned in a little. “And Sara, if your father ever moves past ‘tolerating’ Leonard, I hope the two of you will come find me in Myra.”

She glanced at Len and smirked at his slightly stunned expression. “Thanks, but I don’t think we’ll be back in this part of the world for a long, long time.”

“Then we wish you a safe journey, wherever it takes you,” Nicholas said.

They nodded to him and Aristide one last time, and turned away. As they walked toward the arch, they heard Nicholas one more time.

“ _ The Lord will keep you from all harm— _ __   
_    he will watch over your life; _ __   
_ the Lord will watch over your coming and going _ _   
_ __    both now and forevermore.”

 

* * *

 

“I can’t ice skate. I’ll break all my bones.”

_ Don’t ask! _ Zari mouthed at Leonard and Sara as they walked back onto the bridge. Sara chuckled and announced, “Savage is taken care of. Leonard zapped him with the memory gun and then shoved him out of the jump ship right over the Mediterranean.”

“Good one, Boss!” Mick said, raising one of the wineskins he’d brought from Nicaea.

Leonard chuckled. “I hope there are sharks down there!”

_ “In fact, there are 47 species of shark in the Mediterranean Sea, Mr. Snart,” _ the AI responded.  _ “And because of that, even with Vandal Savage’s notable powers of regeneration, he’s not likely to be in a position to trouble society for about a century.” _

“So maybe Kendra and Carter can get at least one lifetime of peace,” Ray said quietly.

“That won’t change history, will it?” Zari asked.

_ “Not according to the historical records, Ms. Tomaz.” _

“As long as you’re looking at those records, Gideon, everything okay with the rest of Constantine’s reign?”

_ “Yes, Captain Lance. History seems to be, as you would say, back on track.” _   


Sara nodded in satisfaction. Then she shot a sly look at Leonard, before turning her eyes toward Ray. “And can you also look up the Bishop of Myra for that time period?”

_ “Bishop Nicholas will someday become revered as the patron of sailors, archers and repentant thieves, among other things. But you would best know him as  _ Sinterklaas.”

Ray’s reaction was everything Sara could have hoped for. His eyes grew wide and his mouth dropped open in surprise. After a moment, he managed to sputter,  _ “Sinterklaas… _ Saint Nicholas… you knew?”

“I’ve been reading Nate’s history books!” Sara chuckled, taking the captain’s seat. “Okay, everyone. I think we’ve all had enough of the fourth century. Gideon, get us out of here.”

_ “Where to, Captain?” _

“Anyplace without donkeys!” Leonard requested, settling into his jump seat.

Sara laughed again. “Surprise us, Gideon. We’ve earned a break.”

_ “As you wish, Captain.” _

As the time drive began to hum, Sara heard Ray marveling softly, “I can’t believe we just met Santa!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was a Secret Santa gift that took a ridiculous amount of time to finish. (But I have been known to keep my Christmas tree up longer!)
> 
> The prompts:
> 
> 1\. “I can’t ice skate I’ll break all my bones”  
> 2\. “I can’t believe we just met Santa.”  
> 3\. Non-related to Christmas (Remember it still must be focused in Captain Canary)
> 
> #2 was the one that spoke to me the most, but somehow I couldn't just do the jolly old elf. Nicholas of Myra was a real historical figure, and according to one account of the Council of Nicaea, he indeed punched out another man who espoused a "heretical" position.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!


End file.
